Anchor
by thenostalgicdreamer
Summary: With Frank beside her to ground her by reminding her of who she was, Callie was doing just fine.
1. Chapter 1

_For E.G._

 _May you realize just how valuable you are._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Callie pressed her lips together as she stepped out of the car and walked as fast as she could toward the doors of the impressive building in front of her. It was her first day of high school, and she had never felt more unsure of herself. Thanks to freshman orientation, she knew where to go, but that still did little to calm her nerves. She was a few minutes late due to having spent the morning trying on outfits and pinning and re-pinning the tendrils of hair around her face. She still wasn't sure she had gotten her look right. Having made very few friends during her first two months in Bayport, she had little to go on. Her only insight into Bayport fashion was Iola who was wearing converse, a band t-shirt, and jeans for her first day. Callie had no idea if that was an Iola thing, a middle school thing, or a Bayport thing. Either way, she glanced down at herself before walking through the door wondering if her perhaps her wedge heels and flouncy purple blouse had been the wrong choice.

Eight months ago, Callie had first heard that her dad would be transferring to Bayport and that the whole family would be moving there over the summer. The news had come as a total surprise. Callie had spent her entire life in New York City and had never imagined leaving. New York City was home. It was part of her, and she knew she would miss it with all her heart. Her parents ended up choosing a house on the outskirts of Bayport, and nothing had felt so wrong in her entire life. Her new bedroom was huge and looked almost empty despite having every piece of furniture she owned. She missed the cozy feeling of her old room in the back corner of their townhouse and sitting at her desk looking out the window and drawing the grass behind their house in every season. When she opened the windows, she heard the chirping of crickets and birds, not the steady hum of engines peppered with the hoking of horns and blazing of sirens. For the first few days, she cried herself to sleep. Bayport was not home.

Her one consolation when hearing about the move was the thought of being with Iola. Their mothers had first met in college, and the girls had been friends their whole lives. Iola's visits to the city had always felt too short, and Callie looked forward to getting to see her more often. As time passed, Callie found her excitement turning to nervousness. She would be leaving all of her other friends behind and all she would have would be Iola. Callie loved Iola, but she knew her from texting and occasional visits. How would everything go if they were actually together? Would she feel smothered?

Callie was feeling a bit better these days, but Bayport still didn't feel like home. She had very few friends and had yet to get involved in any activities unless you wanted to count drawing or wandering the roads behind her house with her camera. Maybe that would change when school started? Callie wasn't sure. Iola had said that Bayport High was a great school, but Callie couldn't imagine that a small town school would have all the clubs and activities she had been hoping for. She would have to wait and see. In the meantime, she was feeling decidedly out of place.

After the morning assembly which seemed too much like a pep rally for Callie's taste, she wandered off in search of her locker. Her backpack was heavy, and she didn't want to lug all of her books around all day. The halls were far from empty—students were everywhere. Many of them appeared to be freshman like her who had no idea what they were doing. That made Callie feel a little bit better. She was not alone. As she was working on opening her locker, she felt her backpack shift on her back. Her first thought was that it was a bully, an idea which filled her heart with fear. She had been afraid that this would happen. But when she looked up, she saw a tall guy with dark brown hair and kind eyes looking at her.

"Sorry," he said. "I guess I wasn't looking where I was going. That's usually a Joe problem." He laughed and stretched his hand towards her. "I'm Frank."

She took his outstretched hand and shook it. "Callie Shaw."

His forehead crinkled, and she smiled at the look of confusion on his face. "You seem like a freshman, but I don't remember seeing you at Bayport Middle. You didn't go there, right?" he asked.

"No, no, I am from the city," she explained. "We just moved here over the summer."

"Then, that explains why I've never seen you before. I'm sure you'll like here. Bayport is pretty great. I've got to get to my first class, but I guess I'll see you around. Nice to meet you, Callie."

"You too," she said before turning her attention back to her locker. First impressions were rarely accurate, but she already knew that she liked this Frank guy a lot.

For the rest of the day, Callie was stuck on Frank's kind eyes. The look in them had filled her with warmth. She had no idea who he was or what he was like, but she just had this feeling that he was nice. She was a little bit surprised because she had not anticipated meeting a guy so quickly especially one that she would like so much on first acquaintance. She met up with Iola after school was out as they had planned, and the first words out of her mouth were something about Frank. Callie sighed. She liked to keep her feelings close to her chest, but they always came spilling out particularly when they were feelings about some guy. It honestly drove Callie crazy. She didn't want to act like the boy-crazy type, but she just couldn't keep her guts in.

Iola was excited to hear about Frank and asked so many questions that Callie felt that she was being interrogated. She might accidentally spill about the guy she had noticed, but it wasn't in her nature to tell everything that she had thought and seen and felt. Eventually, Iola said something about that having to be Frank Hardy, and it all suddenly made sense. Callie had heard about Frank. He was the older brother of Joe Hardy, the boy that Iola had been crushing on since fifth grade. She knew everything about Joe or at least everything that Iola knew. Joe was funny and always made Iola and everyone else around him laugh. He was confident and smart even though he tried to hide it by acting a little lazy. He played linebacker on a recreational football team, and he also loved solving cases with Frank. The brothers were best friends, and family was everything to them.

Frank, Callie had long known, was Joe's opposite. He was quieter and more serious. He liked school and was part of nerdy clubs like speech and debate and the math team. He loved computers and had even written the code for his own journaling app. Like Joe, he was committed to detective work and his family. Iola was overjoyed when she heard about Callie meeting Frank and making such a good impression. This could only mean one thing—Callie and Frank were meant to be.

Callie wasn't so sure at first. How could she be when they had only first met? She didn't know for sure that Frank was interested, let alone that he was someone who was worth her while. Time, though, proved Iola right. Frank showed up at Joe's football game the next day, and he sat and talked to her for the entire game asking her about her family and her life in New York City. For the first time in a while, she felt at home. Frank was genuinely interested in her and hearing about her life. When he asked her out for pizza the next day, she said yes eager to get to know him better.

That first date turned into another date, and before long, Frank and Callie were dating just like Iola had predicted. Despite her initial misgivings, Callie found that dating Frank was wonderful. He was just as kind as his eyes had looked on that first day, and her parents loved him. Best of all, he had taken it upon himself to help her enjoy her new life in Bayport. He had introduced her to all his friends, which helped a lot because Frank was well-respected at the high school even though it was only his first year. He took her to all of his favorite places and sometimes brought Iola and Joe along so Callie could spend time with them as well.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I wasn't planning on writing more Frank and Callie. However, I realized that she is actually a lot like someone I know and love which inspired me to write this. I was initially planning to post it as a one-shot, but I decided to divide it into chapters after it got long. It will probably be 4 to 5 chapters when it is finished. I'd love to know what you think of this and whether this characterization of Callie rings true for you.**


	2. Chapter 2

As fall came, Callie began to think about the homecoming dance and wonder if Frank would ask her to go as his date. It was likely given the fact that he had only gone out with her since school started. With that thought, she felt her nervousness growing. Her only background with homecoming were the stories that her older cousins had told her. Those stories gave her little to go on as her cousins had all attended high schools in the city whose festivities were not likely to mirror those of a school in a town like Bayport.

Two weeks before the big day, Frank ever timely asked her to go with him to the dance. He chose Bayport Park as the place and presented her with a bouquet of pink roses which were her favorite flowers. It was a simple, yet tasteful move, and Callie was in awe of Frank's ability to make it special and just right for her without making it a big production. As she thought about the dance, she knew she wanted to make just as good of an impression. Frank Hardy was such a good guy and deserved the best, and she wanted to fill the role of his girlfriend perfectly. It was with trepidation that she set out dress shopping with Iola the following weekend. They had no luck at the stores in town until Iola suggested a small consignment shop where Callie found a sky blue tea length dress that she thought just might be the one.

Having no better options, Callie was wearing that dress as she waited for Frank to pick her up on the night of the dance. Between her makeup, high ponytail, and dress; she looked straight out of the 1950s. She was rather pleased with how the look had turned out, but she still wasn't sure if it was right. What if everyone else was wearing ball gowns and she was over there in an eyelet dress? Plus, the dress with its thick straps and sweetheart neckline only served to accentuate her small frame and curves. Callie generally was happy with her body being focused on staying healthy and making sure she ate and exercised enough. Still, she knew that others sometimes thought she was too small. What if Frank and everyone else who saw her tonight thought that too? She crossed her arms over herself and tried to push those thoughts away.

By the time Frank arrived, however, Callie was almost at the point of marching back inside and changing into something else. Iola and her mother had only had good things to say about how she looked, but they loved her and wouldn't want to her hurt her feelings. Maybe they were exaggerating just a little to boost her confidence. Before she could go back in, Frank's parents' car pulled up, and Callie shivered. She had to do this. She saw the car door open and walked towards it trying her best to keep from tottering on her very high heels. On the plus side, they made her 5'7", but in addition to adding four inches to her height, they made it very difficult for her to walk. Frank must have run because before she knew it she was in his arms. He grabbed her hand and remarked something about how beautiful she looked. She felt the blush rise in her cheeks; Frank was never anything but sincere but still it felt too incredible to be true. She had wanted so much to look the part of his girlfriend for the homecoming dance and to hear that he approved made her feel very relieved.

On the drive over, Callie was distracted by worries about the dance. Would she be dressed appropriately? Would she make it through the evening without making a fool of herself? She was relieved when they arrived at the school gymnasium because the environment seemed lower key than she had imagined. There were people everywhere, but they were clustered in groups and seemingly focused on their dance partners and friends. She and Frank immediately found his friends whom she knew and felt comfortable with. The music was a little loud, but the song choices were surprisingly good. The decorations might be a little campy for her taste, but that was to be expected when she was an artist with high standards of what was aesthetically pleasing.

She was lost in noticing the buntings and lights hanging from the corners of the gym when Frank's voice broke through her thoughts. "Want to dance? I kind of think that's why we're here?" She felt her heart beat faster with his words. She was not a dancer, and she always felt clumsy when she tried to dance not to mention the fact that she was not sure would even be able to tonight given the shoes she was wearing.

"Yeah, I guess." She smiled despite her fear. Frank was always ruthlessly practical. Some people might call that boring, but she liked the way he helped her focus her meandering thoughts.

"What a perfect song," he remarked as he reached out and put a hand on her waist. Following his lead, she found his shoulder and put her other hand in his. Her heart lit up in a glow of happiness to see the smile that consumed his face. She knew that smile—it was one that Frank sported often, a smile of pure enjoyment of something he loved.

Luckily for her, the song was a slow one that gave her time to anticipate each step as she followed Frank around the floor. She was soon completing absorbed in dancing—listening to the music, letting its beat fill her head and heart, counting one-two-three, and forcing her feet to keep pace and not fall behind. She smiled as the music ended. She might not like dancing, but dancing with Frank was not so bad.

Callie turned her head from the scene around her when she heard Frank speaking to her softly. "That was beautiful, Callie. Why didn't I know you could dance?"

She found it hard to get her mind around the meaning of his words. She a dancer—in no way was that true. She had chosen gymnastics over dance as a young girl, and even when repeated injuries had forced her to quit, she had not had the opportunity to dance. Her doctor had advised that she chose something less physical which had lead her to take up photography a move that she had not regretted. Still, as much as she was intrigued by moving to music, she could not dance, and she was surprised that Frank would think anything to the contrary. "I'm not a dancer. You're lucky I didn't step on your toes," she said with a laugh.

Frank smiled, "I'm serious. That was incredible. I'm sure everyone was watching us." She felt the fluttering of butterflies at his compliment. Frank was being much too kind as usual.

"Oh, I hope not," she gasped horrified. "There were a lot of people out there. I'm sure they were watching them."

"It's okay, Callie. You were great. You're so graceful."

She wasn't sure if that was actually true, but Frank apparently believed it was. That put a smile on her face and reminded her of how her dad had remarked once that she was so coordinated that she would probably be good at any sport she attempted. She hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but now it made her wonder if that was why she had been so successful at gymnastics before she had had to quit and why Frank thought she was such a good dancer when she had never really danced. "Thanks," she said shyly not just for the compliment but for the way that he had reminded her that she was so much more than who her insecurities told her she was.

"Can I convince you to do another one?" he asked. "I feel like we're just getting started."

"Okay," she said following him back out to the floor. Finding a new rhythm, she couldn't think of anywhere else she would rather be. The dance with its crowds and dancing might be a little overwhelming for her, but with Frank beside her to ground her by reminding her of who she was, she was doing just fine. Staring up at him as they waltzed around the floor, she couldn't help feeling thankful that he was in her life. He complemented her perfectly and helped her to be the best possible version of herself.

As the year continued, Callie made new friends, and she began to realize that a lot of people did not understand her relationship with Frank. Although some of her new friends were clearly jealous of her for dating such a catch, the vast majority didn't quite understand why she would want to date a detective especially if that detective was Frank. Joe might know how to let loose and have fun, but Frank was uptight and so structured. Sometimes, even she had a hard time understanding how he enjoyed life when he was so focused. She too poured herself into the things she loved, but she still found it hard to imagine not letting loose and going with the flow sometimes. Still, she was deeply aware of how much he enjoyed life. She saw how often he smiled, the lighthearted comments he made when it was just the two of them, and the stars in his eyes when he talked about his dreams for the future. She loved that—the way that just by being himself he made her notice and appreciate the little moments every day.

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 **Author's Note: I thought I would go ahead and post this since I finished it quickly after writing it yesterday. I hope this doesn't paint too negative of a picture of Callie. This Callie is the same Callie that I wrote in the fic from Frank's perspective. The difference is just that that is how he sees her and this is how she sees herself in her worst moments. Thanks for reading along. I'd love to know what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

_For E.G.  
My favorite little artist_  
 _Forever appreciating your talent and prospective_

 _._

 _._

 _._

As time passed, Frank and Callie's relationship became more serious, and she watched her parents' attitude toward him change. At first, she wondered if it was her imagination, but eventually she had to admit that it wasn't just in her head. It surprised her though when they had been together two years already and her parents had always liked Frank. Besides, it was hard to believe that he had done anything to upset them when he was always so conscientious about doing the right thing. She began pondering what possibly could be the cause and felt like it had to be Frank's detective work. True, her parents had always known what he did and had never complained about it. However, they had been just a little under informed about what said work entailed. More recently, though, they had gotten to know Laura and Fenton better, and it was more than likely that they had had heard their fair share of stories about what had happened to the boys on various cases. Given the fact that Frank made no secret of his intentions to become a detective full-time after he finished his education, it was likely that they were worried that staying with him would be too much for her.

The whole situation set Callie on edge. Watching her parents grow increasingly cold to Frank was upsetting, and she had no one to talk to about it especially since Frank who was generally observant but not particularly socially aware appeared not to notice. Eventually, she was so frustrated that she found herself spilling her guts to Joe who she happened to find alone at the Hardy house when she stopped by one Saturday afternoon. He expressed sympathy and the belief that she would figure out what to do. Spurred on by his confidence in her and knowing that the brothers didn't keep secrets from each other, Callie brought it up to Frank who felt terrible when he heard what was going on and even offered to talk to her parents himself. She immediately rejected that idea, and they worked together to make a plan of how she could broach the subject with her parents.

Later that week, she sat down with her mother and explained her determination to stay with Frank. She had had many talks with Laura Hardy and knew exactly what she was getting into. Her life with him would not be easy, but she loved him and didn't want to live life without him. Furthermore, there was no way that she could ask him to do anything other than what he had set his heart on when she respected him for living a life consistent with his belief in justice and his desire to make world a better place. Callie's mom listened respectfully explaining her concerns yet expressing her support for whatever Callie decided.

Weeks had passed since then, and things were getting calmer. Still, Callie had to admit that everything that had gone down was fresh on her mind. Her parents were so important to her and feeling their disapproval even momentarily had been so hard. It bothered her to know that they thought that she would be better without Frank. Hardships be darned, that was completely untrue. It was with Frank's support that she was working on the insecurities that kept her from being able to be herself. Surely, that was a good thing.

Walking through the door of the Hardy house, Callie was happy to hear the sound of voices—Frank and Joe were home. She had guessed as much after seeing Frank's car in the driveway, but you could never be sure. Callie went over to there most Saturdays regardless of whether or not the boys were home. On days when Frank was available, they usually played games or went to the mall or the park. If he wasn't, she baked something with Aunt Gertrude or did some sketching while Laura did housework. Today, though, Frank was home, and she was particularly glad about that as they had both been so busy lately that she felt like she had hardly seen him.

As she took off her shoes, she noticed another voice joining Frank and Joe's—a young sounding female voice. It was Nancy Drew; it had to be Nancy Drew. Callie had heard a lot of stories about the young detective which wasn't too surprising given the fact that Nancy was a close family friend. From what Callie had gathered, Nancy and Frank shared a special bond that had led many including his parents to speculate that the two would eventually become a couple. That obviously hadn't happened—Frank was dating her, and Nancy's boyfriend was a guy named Ned. Callie had long been curious about what Nancy was like since they had never had the opportunity to meet because Nancy's visits to Bayport were so brief and , it looked like the chance had finally come.

As she walked down the hallway, she found herself rethinking her decision to go meet Nancy. It was likely that no one had heard her enter, so it wasn't too late to turn around and go home. On second thought, Callie wasn't sure she wanted to meet Nancy. From the looks of everything, she sounded incredible, and Callie didn't feel like she could trust herself to not make a fool of herself in the presence of such an incredible person as Nancy Drew. Worst of all, she wouldn't just be shaping Nancy's opinion of herself. No, Frank would be there too watching the whole thing.

In the end, though, Callie's curiosity got the better of her, and she made her way to the family room wondering if she was making a big mistake. Surveying the room, she saw Joe in his favorite recliner in the corner; Frank and Nancy were on the couch bent over a laptop.

"You must be Callie," Nancy said rising to meet her. Callie felt her voice catch in her throat. Nancy was gorgeous in every way she herself wasn't. Her hair was the most beautiful shade of strawberry blonde, and her eyes were bright and hazel. No one would have called Nancy tall, but standing next to her, Callie felt like a midget. Looking up at Nancy, she saw that the other girl's nose was peppered with dainty brown freckles. Why hadn't anyone told her Nancy was so pretty?

"Yes," she managed after a moment. "I'm Callie Shaw, Frank's girlfriend." She instantly regretted her words. Given the fact that Nancy doubtless knew she was Frank's girlfriend, they sounded really possessive. She was off to such a great start already! But how could she help it when Nancy had such an imposing presence?

"I've heard so many good things about you," Nancy said in a tone that struck Callie as sincere. "It's so great to finally meet you."

Callie smiled and tried her best to sound more excited than she felt. "Nice to meet you too." Nancy seemed so nice that she wanted to like her. She just wasn't sure she could.

She was pondering what to say next when Frank hopped up and joined them. "Callie, this is Nancy. Nancy, Callie." The girls both laughed. Frank had apparently missed their introduction. He generally wasn't this unobservant, but Callie had noticed that when it came to cases he had a one-track mind.

"I know. I believe you missed the introductions, Frank," Nancy said.

"We already met," Callie added.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't wait for me. I like ambitious girls who are ready to take initiative. I'm glad to see you both pass the test," Frank replied. Callie was feeling decidedly awkward. She didn't like being lumped together with Nancy. She was getting the feeling that there was a third wheel, but she wasn't quite sure who it was yet. Frank put his arm around her and lead her down onto the couch next to him. Nancy took the other side, and Frank balanced the computer on his lap again. "Callie, why don't you show Nancy some of your sketches?" he asked. Turning to Nancy, he added, "She's such a great artist. I'd love for you to see her work".

Callie felt fear rising in her chest. She was always nervous showing her art to new people. She enjoyed drawing, but she was far from a professional. If you were looking for good art, there were so many other people's work you should check out. She knew Frank wasn't trying to make her uncomfortable on purpose. However, she wished he could get it through his head that she was insecure about her art. "Maybe some other time?" she said noncommittally. "I don't want to interrupt you while you're working on your case."

"Nonsense," Nancy said. "I'd love to see it, and at this point, I'm really just looking on with Frank. He can easily do this himself."

Callie reached for her purse which she had set at the foot of the couch and pulled out a small notebook. She handed it to Nancy who looked it over before opening it. "It's such a cute little sketchbook," she muttered.

"It was a gift from my friend Iola," Callie said shyly. "She got it for me for Christmas last year."

"How nice. Is there something you want me to look at?" Nancy asked.

"You can peruse if you'd like. A lot of it isn't that great, but still."

Frank rubbed her back affectionately. "Callie's just modest is all. She's a very talented artist."

As Nancy flipped through the pages, Callie felt her nervousness grow. Maybe she was just meeting Nancy, but Nancy was an important person to Frank. That made her opinion very important to Callie as well. What if Nancy saw her art as junk? Nancy stopped on a page with a portrait of Frank. "Wow is that lovely!" she commented turning to look at Frank. "That's a really good likeness." She turned to another page— a typographic representation that Callie had done of a favorite quote. "Real love is like a painting," she read. Eventually, she closed the book and handed it back to Callie. "That's really cool. You're definitely very talented."

"Thank you," Callie said tucking the book back in her purse. She settled down next to Frank very relieved to see for herself that there was nothing between Frank and Nancy except years of friendship. She had thought as much, but sometimes in moments of weakness, she imagined that Frank wished he could date Nancy. That clearly was not the case. What she saw was Frank in detective mode. There was nothing more, and that gave her a lot of reassurance.

Still, she couldn't help feeling uneasy as Frank and Nancy got back to work on the case. There was no doubt who was the third wheel now. Even though it was all that was going on, Nancy was still giving Frank the help that he needed for his case—help that Callie herself wished she could give. She had long wanted to be able to help Frank with his work instead of sitting by him sketching while he stared at his computer screen. But hours of looking over clues trying to come up with the connection between them was not her forte. She gave up too quickly because her brain didn't work that way. It wasn't rational or linear or any of those lovely things that Frank and Nancy and Joe's were. No, she wasn't like that, couldn't be like that as much as she wanted to be part of the beautiful work that they did.

Eventually, she excused herself talking about how she needed to take some pictures for an assignment for her photography class. Nancy was nothing but kind, but Callie knew her thoughts were taking bad turn, and she needed to leave before it got worse.

A few days later, Callie saw Frank again, and he asked about what he thought of Nancy. By that point, her feelings had calmed down enough to let her say the nice things that Nancy deserved. Frank seemed genuinely pleased to see her reaction and expressed his hope that the two girls could become friends. Callie didn't know what to say to that. She liked Nancy well enough, but she didn't like how Nancy reminded her of everything she wasn't—someone who could enter fully into Frank's world and walk every part of his life with him. That was something that Callie had never brought up with Frank but often felt. She wasn't sure he would ever understand what it was like to be on the outside looking in, knowing there were certain ways you would never fit in. He would point to the fact that she was accepted and appreciated. That was true but didn't change the way she felt.

It was a few months later that Callie snapped. It was during a conversation that she had with Frank about a date that he had had to cancel. She didn't really mind that he had cancelled—she enjoyed the alone time she got when he was off on a case. Yes, she missed Frank when he was busy, but her life was so full that she rarely had time to just sit down and create, and any extra time to do that felt like a gift. Frank, though, was apparently not okay with having cancelled the date and the fact that he had broken his promise to not let his work interfere with their relationship. Callie hated seeing anyone feel guilty. Why couldn't he see that she understood that his work was consuming and often time sensitive? It was the last straw, though, when he said something about how she wouldn't understand. She could not take that when he was implying that because she was not a detective there were certain things that she would never understand. That was simply not acceptable. Callie prided herself on being an understanding person and the fact that she could support Frank even though there were certain aspects of his life they didn't share. With his words, she was taken back to every doubt that those around had ever expressed about their relationship. If Frank didn't think she could hack it, why was she even bothering to date him? Feeling very upset, she had made some comment about how if he wanted a detective he should just date Nancy. Frank had reminded her of everything that he had done for her before angrily disappearing from the room.

After that, they hadn't talked for several days. That was her fault; Frank had started trying to call her a few hours after their argument. Eventually, she had realized that she missed him and had asked him if he'd be willing to talk. Since they were actually feeling calmer, they had been able to have a reasonable conversation during the course of which they both apologized. Callie felt so much better after that—things were going to be alright. After patching things up, Frank began telling her things that she had never heard him say before. Despite her belief to the contrary, he did not want her to be a detective. He appreciated that she wasn't and that with her he had conversations about other things—the normal life that he sometimes felt like he was terrible at. He had always known that he had workaholic tendencies and having chosen a consuming line of work he knew that he was in danger of descending into the deep, dark abyss of becoming a workaholic. Callie was his anchor helping him find balance that he knew he was unable to achieve on his own. She helped him slow down and realize that life wasn't always as urgent as he thought he was. Besides, he wouldn't ever want her to quit art; her art made him really happy, and he loved watching her be an artist.

As Frank's words sunk in, Callie felt a sense of settledness she had never felt before. She had been drawing since she could pick up a pencil, but she had always struggled with her identity as an artist. She loved art, but it had always just been something she did because she couldn't help it. Her parents had encouraged her talent, but she had always imagined that she would grow up and pick a normal job like a teaching or drafting or computer programming. She would still draw because she could never imagine quitting art no matter what path her life took. She loved it too much and literally couldn't stop herself from doing it. As she got older, she took art classes at school where she got the attention of her teachers who praised her talent and skill and encouraged her to pursue a career in the field. With her parents' support, she was tentatively planning to do just that after high school. Despite what everyone said about her work, however, she still felt guilty about becoming an artist. She would just be creating something that made her happy or maybe her client happy. She wouldn't be helping people like her nurse practitioner mom or making something useful like her engineer dad. She would be doing an "easy" major, not taking all the math and science classes like her parents did. Maybe that was good when she was the whimsical little artist who wasn't smart like they were.

Frank, though, disagreed with everything that she had ever told herself. He loved her for who she was—the little artist who'd never be a detective. He saw her work as just as important as his. Maybe she wasn't saving people, but who knew what it might mean that she made things that made them smile? If she made everyone just a fraction of how happy she made him, it was totally worthwhile. Frank's prospective was so tremendously freeing that Callie found herself longing to see herself the way he did, and she knew that with his help she someday would.

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 **Author's Note: I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying this story. Thanks for all the kind words. They are so appreciated. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was a bit of a struggle to write, and I'm still not sure I'm happy with it, but it's what I have, so I decided to go ahead and post it.**


	4. Chapter 4

Callie had been dreading college and its impending separation from Frank for years, but that didn't make it any easier to say goodbye to him the August after they graduated. She had known it wouldn't be easy to pick everything up and move somewhere new. It had been hard enough when she and her parents had left the city when she was fourteen. She might be older now, but that didn't make her eager to do it again—especially since she would be doing it alone this time. Her parents wouldn't be coming along; Frank wouldn't be coming along. She and Frank were both excellent students, but she was studying art, and he business and criminal justice. It was simply unrealistic to imagine that they would end up at the same school. But as much as she didn't like the idea of leaving, she couldn't stay in Baypart unless she wanted to attend the outreach branch of the local community college. No, she had to leave and venture into the world.

Frank ended up at a somewhat prestigious school in the city, while Callie packed her bags for a new city upstate. Although she considered herself lucky to have the chance to pursue art, she was far from excited to leave Bayport. In the short time she had lived there, she had put down roots; Bayport had become home. The people, places, and memories there were part of her, and leaving them behind made her feel like she was ripping her heart out.

Worst of all, though, was saying goodbye to Frank. Frank Hardy was simply her person. She considered herself lucky to have supportive parents and kind friends, but it was Frank who was truly hers. He was her person in a way that no one else had ever been before. She was his number one, and she could count on him to be there whatever she needed, whenever she needed it. Dependable and trustworthy simply were who he was as a person. She didn't have to worry that a day would come when he didn't feel like loving her because he had made up his mind and when Frank Hardy decided something, there was no turning back. She had found so much freedom in knowing that his love for her didn't depend on how successful she felt she was or how confident. He loved her for simply being Callie, and that he had explained to her was something that she simply could never not be. The quiet confidence of his acceptance had given her so much peace.

Maybe she and Frank had been very busy during the last two years of high school, but it was still nothing compared to the physical separation of college. He might have left before, but she had always known that he was coming back very soon. Even when she had feared for his safety, knowing he was coming back had comforted her while he was away. And there had always been his house to visit where she could feel close to him by spending time with the people he loved. Whether he was in town or away, Frank's presence filled Bayport. There was hardly a place she could go where she didn't have a memory of a moment in time they had spent there together, and she couldn't get away from the feeling that he was there because he was. Anytime she needed anything, he was only a ten minute drive away.

Now, she found herself in a new corner of the state with Frank many hours away. She couldn't stop by just because she needed to see him. No, any reunions had to be setup so far in advance so Frank ever the planner could make sure it fit his busy schedule. She supposed she understood. She was very busy with school, and he only had to be more so between his two majors and the Bayport cases he was still trying to take on the side. It made sense, but that didn't make it any easier to walk around with her heart in the city with Frank.

She cried herself to sleep too many nights to count that first month away. She missed Bayport, her old life, her friends, her parents, and most of all Frank. He wasn't there to pull her into his arms and tell her that she would be all right. Instead, she found herself diving head first into art—her one love at school. When she was in the zone focused on only the strokes of her brush or her pencil, she felt the sadness drift away as she was lost in a world where there was only art. She saw her skills improve and won the support of her professors who expressed their admiration of her work.

They both returned for the summer, and Callie had rediscovered what it meant to be simply Callie, not Callie the artist. With the support of both Iola and Frank, she had reconnected with who she was and found the things that she used to like to do. But the summer was over all too quickly, and Callie found herself heading back to school with a grieving heart. It wasn't as hard as first year—she knew what she was doing and what she wanted to get out of it. Still, she missed Bayport and Frank with an ache that she was sure would never quite go away.

Her hands were covered with the slimy grime of clay when she heard the Spanish guitar she was listening to stop and a buzzing sound take its place. Frank was calling. Although he was hesitant to get together without carefully made plans, he also made sure to keep in touch. They were constantly texting, and when he missed her too badly, he made sure to call. Callie didn't like talking on the phone. She found it was hard for her to communicate freely when she couldn't see the other person and watch their facial expressions. Frank understood and tried to do video calls when he could but sometimes particularly when he was traveling that was impossible. Callie had learned to be patient with him even when he called at bad times. He called her when he needed her, and the thought that she could be of help to him was a happy one.

Still, today was one of those times where she didn't feel like talking. The project for her sculpting class was due tomorrow, and she was still unhappy with what she had so far. Maybe making a sculpture of a person was hard, but it was still the sorriest excuse for Frank in the history of ever. Perhaps if she had chosen someone who was easier to make she would already be done, but as things stood she still had many hours of hard work ahead of her before she turned it in tomorrow. She was expecting that she wouldn't even have something deserving of a good grade by then.

She wiped her hands on a cloth she had on the table and took the call. If it were someone else, she wouldn't answer without checking a mirror, but this was Frank. He loved her regardless of how she looked on any particular day. Doubtless, he was calling because he needed something—perhaps just to talk to her, and she was determined to be cheerful.

"Hi," he said waving. He was seated at what Callie recognized as his desk and had the biggest smile on his face. "I missed you." His tone had the slightest hint of whininess. Frank wasn't a whiney person in general, but being separated from her brought out the worst in him.

"Missed you too, honey," Callie replied glancing at the corner of the screen that showed what her camera was picking up. She looked like a royal mess. There were little gray stains on her forehead, and her hair which she had sloppily pulled into a bun with a random pencil was falling out. She tried not to laugh at herself. "How are you doing?"

"Good. Busy, but I don't need to tell you that." He laughed. "But I dare say my afternoon hasn't been as exciting as yours. It's been lots of accounting homework...Have you ever considered taking up a career in sculpture? The clay suits you. It adds a nice...I think you call it highlight...to your face."

She laughed before getting serious. "I'm a little late for a career in sculpting. There are people who have been making sculptures since they were little kids."

"But you're really good," Frank insisted. He was always so positive, but what did he know about art? He might have taken an art history course, but that didn't make him a connoisseur. "Can I see what you're working on?"

"It's not exactly done," Callie explained. "I'm not sure you want to see it." She felt a little bashful. Not only was her work in progress bad, but it was also a bad likeness of Frank!

"I'm sure it's great. I'd love to see it."

She reached for the sculpture. "Okay. This is where I'm at." She turned it and showed it to the camera.

Frank's face immediately brightened. "You did one of me?"

"Your face was the natural choice."

"It looks great," he said. "I'll look forward to everyone asking about your muse. Just kidding!"

"Frank Hardy!" she scolded. "I thought I picked the brother who wasn't an egotistical snob."

"Hey," Frank replied. "Joe may have his egotistical moments, but he's not a snob." It always surprised Callie how much Frank came to Joe's aid. Maybe they were competitive, but they supported and loved each other no matter what. It was partly the relationship the two of them had and partly Frank being who he was—a kind, supportive person.

"Okay."

"The point is that the sculpture is great. I love it!"

Callie smiled momentarily. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don't like it, and I don't think my professor will either when she sees it tomorrow."

"Callie, you can't be so hard on yourself. If you think it's going to turn out badly, you won't be able to finish it. I think it looks great, and with a little more work, it's going to be amazing."

"I'm not a sculptor," she insisted. "I've only been doing this a couple months."

"But you're an artist, and you can't let imposter syndrome keep you from enjoying what you do."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. You're not an artist."

"And you're not a detective, but you're still an important part of my team." She laughed. Frank was right. Leave it to him to turn her argument around and make a point she could not argue with. "You have to start believing what I'm saying. You're good at what you do, Callie, and no feeling you have can make that not true."

She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and didn't know what to say.

Frank broke the silence. "I love you so much, and I'd totally give you a hug if I could." He stretched his arms out making Callie wish she could step into the screen and find her way to his arms. His love was such a comfort in every situation, and if she could feel it as well as hearing it, maybe it would soak in deeper.

"Love you too." After a moment's pause, she added, "Was there something you wanted to talk about? I'm needing to get back to homework soon."

Frank shook his head. "Not really. I just needed to see your face."

Callie laughed. "Well, you can check that off your list!"

"Maybe momentarily, but it's going right back on." He blew her a kiss. "Miss you, Callie."

"Miss you too!" she said before ending the call. They said absence made the heart grow fonder, and being away had made Frank if anything more affectionate. She had always known he loved her, but it had never been like this where he seemed visibly lost without her. She was so quick to be dismissive of whatever she did for him, what she brought to his life. But the truth was that they both needed each other, and their love was an anchor that kept them together and kept them from getting lost in the sea of life.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for being patient. This chapter was a bit of a bear. Knowing that you were waiting for it definitely helped me keep going! I hope you enjoy it, and that it was worth the wait.

G

M

T

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